(A/N) Well, here we are at a brand new story. I ought to warn any potential newcomers that the story you've stumbled upon is a direct continuation of my other story 'The Key To My Heart', so you might be a bit confused if you just hop into this, but if you wanna see if you can follow it, be my guest. This story will not be as action-driven as the last one, but it will certainly have just as much angst…and there will be a great deal more fluff in this one to balance it all out. I didn't cut you all enough of a break in the last one. So, let's see how this story turns out.

How Do You Measure…

Chapter 1: Measure a Year

Christmas came late to the Xavier household that year. With everything that had happened…Charles' kidnapping and torture at the hands of Shaw, the ensuing healing period, the addition of a new mutant to the group, and the like…the mansion's inhabitants had simply forgotten about it. More than likely, it would have been gift enough that they were all together and mostly healthy after the events of the past few months, but Charles wouldn't let it go once he'd remembered what time of year it was. As such, the ragtag family was very surprised to find gifts waiting for them in the kitchen on the day of New Year's Eve…mostly practical things, but suited to each of them, nonetheless. The favored gift among all of them was the French toast Erik made for breakfast. They were also excited to see Pele, their newest and youngest member, receive a new winter coat.

While they were all admiring their books and clothes and the like, Charles came up behind Erik, who was in the process of cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Giving his ear a quick kiss, he used the distraction to slip something around the metal-kine's neck.

"What's this?" he asked, glancing down. He'd immediately sensed it was metal, so he summoned the object up to examine it. It was a circular pendant hung from a slender metal chain. The disk was mostly featureless, save for the words inscribed on it.

Doubt thou the stars are fire,

Doubt that the sun doth move,

Doubt truth to be a liar,

But do not doubt I love.

"I had it made for you," Charles said, grinning softly. "I couldn't stop thinking about it…after that day in the garden. Somehow, it…seems more fitting."

"Than what?" Erik asked slowly, still admiring the pendant.

"Well…than a ring, I suppose," Charles said, his face reddening slightly, though he continued to smile.

Erik turned to the side, giving Charles a quick peck on the cheek. When Banshee happened to see this, he quickly burst into the old playground song.

"Ooh, check it out. Erik and the professor sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-"

Moving almost faster than the human eye could track, Erik used his power to raise a knife from the counter. Without even turning to look at the boy, he flung the knife across the room, stopping it mere inches from his face.

"And that's the end of that," Erik said, his lips twitching into a satisfied smirk.

The redhead let out a strangled, "Eep!" before slowly backing away from the levitating blade and bolting from the room. Havok let out several good chuckles.

"That was good, man," he complimented Erik before heading after Banshee.

"Erik," Charles chastised him quietly as the knife drifted lazily back over to them. "We mustn't be setting bad examples. There are impressionably young children in the room."

The scold, unfortunately, was lost on Erik, as the only thing he could see was the fact that Charles' blush had deepened significantly.

What are you thinking about? He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Once Banshee had started the rhyme, Charles hadn't been able to help finishing it in his head.

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in a baby carriage.

Never having heard the rhyme before, Erik raised both eyebrows in interest.

Well…we've got the love thing down. Don't know what we can do about the rest.

Charles smiled weakly at this. No need to worry about that. We've got children enough around here…and there will be more before too long.

True enough, Erik agreed, feeling a small, secret smile light up his face as he went back to work. The cold metal pendant was already starting to warm against his skin.

XxX

When James Howlett pulled off the highway with his brother to take a quick leak and a smoke, the absolute last thing he'd expected to find upon returning to his motorcycle was a young girl draped over the bike…and yet there she was, her sinuous body draped all over the thing like it was a couch.

"Hey!" he shouted. In one fluid motion, she was on her feet, ready to spring. Her skin was pitted with several old scars and her brown hair was long, wild, and matted. This feral look was completed with what appeared to be a dress made from some kind of animal fur…wolf, unless he'd missed his best guess.

The girl snarled at him, beginning to circle him and Victor, the classic stance of an animal ready to defend its territory.

"What the hell…" Victor muttered, watching the girl just as closely as James was.

"I don't know," he muttered right back, slowly raising his hands. As a gesture of peace, it meant little coming from him, but she didn't have to know that. "We're not gonna hurt you, kid," he said slowly, for that was what she was, a teenager…barely come into a woman's body.

The girl just continued to snarl, and when James attempted to take a step forward, she raised a hand in the air, fingers contorted like claws. Instantly, James felt as if a large hand had wrapped around his heart and was squeezing. Dropping to his knees and clawing at his chest, he resisted crying out for as long as he could, but it was a losing battle.

"Jimmy!" Victor shouted, attempting to rush the girl, but a flick of her other hand easily threw him back several feet.

Meanwhile, the thing that gripped James' heart only tightened its hold, and he ultimately felt the thing literally burst in his chest. Giving one last shout of agony, he dropped to the ground, breathing erratically.

Thinking James was down for the count, the girl turned her attention to Victor, but when her intended prey gave her a triumphant grin instead of the fear she was used to, she turned back to find that James had already gotten to his feet. Looking extremely annoyed, he bared his claws for her, thinking he might know what the deal was.

The girl stared at the bone claws for several minutes before looking back up at James. Raising her hands again, her stance decidedly less offensive this time, several stones rose from where they rested beneath the snow, drifting lazily through the air.

"She's a mutant," James said as Victor came around to stand beside him.

"Damn strong one, too," the elder brother said, giving his neck a satisfying crack.

Slowly releasing the stones, the girl pressed her hand to her heart. "L…l…li…liii…k… like…mmm…mu…me," she said, struggling with the words…as if she'd forgotten how they fit together.

"Got a name, kid?" James asked her.

For a moment, she looked confused. She tilted her head from side to side, her eyes distant, searching for meaning in the disparate sounds. But then a light seemed to come on and she nodded.

"A…Aaaarrph!" she started, the vowel turning into a wolfish yip about halfway through. She clamped her hands over her mouth and shook her head. "Mm-mm, mm-mm."

"'s'okay," James said gruffly, trying to be as non-threatening as he could. "Keep tryin'."

"Aaaaart-t-t-t…tem-m…mi…miiis. Arte…mis," she stuttered, not quite able to get the whole thing out at once.

"Artemis?" James repeated. She nodded.

"Well, nice to know you, Artemis, but we've got places to be," Victor said, starting to head back for their bikes. They were heading down to D.C. to enlist. The U.S. was preparing troops to deploy in Vietnam…another war to be fought. There was always another war.

"Can we really…just leave her here?" James wondered, watching Artemis watch them.

"Obviously, she's survived long enough to forget how to talk."

"I dunno. Somethin' about it just…rubs me the wrong way."

"What would we do with her, Jimmy? There is no place for kids like her. Never has been. You know that. She's gotta learn to be on her own. Seems to be doing pretty good from where I'm standin'."

Even though he knew everything Victor was saying was true, there was still something about the whole situation that nagged at him. Was there really nowhere else for Artemis to go? He and Victor at least had each other. Did Artemis really have to be alone like this?

That was when he remembered.

"What about those two suits who were sniffin' around a few months back?" he suggested. He'd told them off pretty thoroughly, but they'd gotten to Victor later that same night and actually managed to give him some information. He'd been interested at first…until one of them specifically stated he didn't mean for there to be any killing. He had lost Victor then and there. James had been in time to hear the end of this conversation, and it was only because he'd been so bothered by the fact that Victor was disappointed by the potential lack of bloodshed that one of the men had been able to leave contact information with him this time around…incase they changed their minds.

Victor rolled his eyes. "If you really wanna go to all that trouble, fine. Dunno if you'll ever be able to find 'em again, though…after all the shit that went down in Cuba."

"It's worth a shot," James said, joining his brother next to their bikes and mounting his. "Besides, it's not like the war'll be over before we get to that recruiting office."

As Victor climbed onto his own bike, James throttled his to life. For a moment, Artemis looked like she might flee back into the woods, but some deep-rooted interest in the machine kept her there. It was curiosity over this strange beast that had first drawn her out of the forest, after all. James held his hand out to her, indicating she should join him.

"Come on, kid."

Moving cautiously…slowly…Artemis approached the bike. James was patient, allowing her to be curious as she rested her hands on different parts of the motorcycle, feeling its hum with a tiny look of exhilaration. It was a look he recognized, because he'd worn it himself. Even though the sensible part of her feared what must be a dangerous predator in her mind, she couldn't help but be enticed by it.

"You comin'?" he asked after a time, patting the spot in front of him. Seeing his gestures, Artemis took an involuntary step back.

"N…nnn…nno!" she barked out, her eyes wild. "C-c-can…can't…gu…go…bu…baaaa-ck – back. Tuh…too…d-d…daaaan…nuh…gerrrr- arrph!" Again, her voice morphed into the wolf yip halfway through. She shook her head in frustration. "Dan…ger."

James shook his head. "It ain't like that, kid. I'm gonna take you somewhere safe."

For a moment, Artemis turned to look back into the woods. She threw her head back and howled plaintively. Several distant howls answered her and the two brothers couldn't help but shiver slightly. When the chorus of howling finally let up, Artemis turned back to them and, with a little help from James, climbed onto the bike in front of him.

James knew it was dangerous to be riding like this, but really, it was also dangerous to be riding without a helmet and he just couldn't bring himself to care, as there was nothing to be done about it. It was the first time in a long while he'd been in the company of someone who actually could be hurt by a motorcycle crash…and even if Artemis knew it was dangerous, there was no fear in her. James couldn't see her face, but he could feel her excitement in the way her body crouched over the bike…could smell it coming off of her as the wind whipped through her wild hair.

Normally, such childish joy might have irked him, but he couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic…because he also remembered what it was like to ride a motorcycle for the first time.

XxX

He's in his room. The last vestiges of daylight can be seen outside the window. He hears the door opening and when he turns to look, he half-expects to see Erik…but that's not who enters the room.

"Hello, Charles."

He knows the blazing blue eyes…and the cocky grin. How can he not? They are his own, after all.

Onslaught.

"You…can't be here," he says, not looking at his counterpart.

"You know that isn't true. The unconscious mind is completely separate from the conscious one. Maybe your precious protégé's barriers can bar me from your conscious mind…from the outside world…but you will never keep me out of your dreams. I'm sorry to say, my dear, but I'm here to stay," he says, closing the door behind him as he enters the room.

As Onslaught moves toward him, Charles tries to move away. That's when he realizes he's back in the chair.

…helpless…

"You don't need to pretend for me," Onslaught says as he kneels in front of the chair, grabbing the armrests and pinning Charles there. "I know you're afraid."

"Terrified," he answers honestly. What else can he do?

"Not…specifically of me, though," the other him notes, his smirk widening in interest.

"No," he answers, maintaining his calm. "I'm afraid that this thing…this creature before me…really is me."

"Indeed," the other says, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, "The only you there is."

"No…not the only," he whispers back, his throat going dry with fear. Onslaught's close proximity is starting to awaken the ungovernable terror…the crushing fear that sudden physical contact inspires…the fear Shaw taught him to feel.

"Heheh, yes. While you may deny who you are, the fact that we're here like this speaks volumes about what you really want," Onslaught says, running a hand through his hair. Charles shudders in disgust.

"That doesn't matter. You could have chosen any setting you wanted for this."

"I didn't choose this, though, Charles. You did," Onslaught hisses, seizing Charles' face in his hands. "Unconsciously, you chose to face me like this…in the chair…the symbol of your greatest weakness. It means that what you want…what you truly want…is never to be that weak again, and with me at your side, you never would be. You would never be powerless again. You would have the strength to protect the people you love from Shaw. Isn't that what you want?"

"That is what I want," he says quietly, trying hard to hold himself together as he stares up at his fiery other. "I just…can't want it…the way you're suggesting. You would harm more people than you would save. It's your nature to destroy."

"Not so, Charles. It's my nature to destroy what's hurting us."

"You tried to kill Pele."

"Only because she was going to kill Erik. That would have made you sad, wouldn't it…if Erik had died that night…trying to save your pathetic life?"

"It would have. I doubt I would have ever recovered," Charles says, his voice still calm, though his body trembles with unspent fear, sorrow, and self-loathing. "But Pele shouldn't have been the one to pay for that. She's just a child. She doesn't know any better."

"It felt good, though…didn't it?" Onslaught demands quietly as he forces a knee between Charles' legs. "To take control of your life…to fight back against something that was causing you pain…to not be so weak?"

"I don't know how it felt," Charles bites back, his face sweating with the effort of keeping himself together. "It was you, not me."

Onslaught chuckles darkly at this, pressing himself as close against Charles as he's able. "I can see I've got my work cut out for me. You just don't want to see what we could be together…but you will, Charles. I promise you. You will."

Erik was in action almost instantly when the screaming sounded in his head. His eyes snapped open and he rolled over in bed, seeing Charles writhing beneath the blankets next to him. Sitting up, he quickly grabbed hold of the younger mutant, pulling him into his arms and holding him tightly against his chest.

"Wake up," he urged fiercely, shaking the telepath as he held him. "Charles, wake up!"

With a gasp and a jerk, the psychic screams stopped and Charles was awake, breathing heavily in his arms. As he slowly started to remember where he was, he brought his arms up, wrapping them around Erik and clinging to him as his racing heartbeat began to slow.

"What was it this time?" Erik asked him, running a soothing hand up and down his back.

"Onslaught," Charles said quietly, not looking up at him…just resting his head against his chest and listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

"Just a nightmare…or was it really him?" Erik asked, fighting the urge to tense, lest it set the telepath off.

"I'm not sure," Charles mumbled. "It could have been just a nightmare…but it could have been him, too."

"Can he do that?"

"Probably. The unconscious and the conscious are completely different fields. What applies in one won't necessarily apply in the other."

"What did he say to you?"

Charles tensed slightly at this. What could he say to it? His first thought was to protect Erik from the demon in his head…but this was swiftly followed by all the times he'd scolded the metal-kine for keeping things from him. He couldn't start this relationship by keeping things from Erik. If they were going to help each other, there had to be trust. Without that, there couldn't be love.

So Charles let Erik see. He gave him the entire encounter…the helplessness he'd felt…the fear and self-loathing…the sorrow…and the anger…the anger at all the other emotions.

"Is there…anything I can do?" Erik asked, rather than pass any sort of judgment on the things he'd seen.

"Just this," Charles said, nuzzling a little closer, drawing strength from the feeling of Erik's skin against his. "Just wake me up…keep waking me up."

"I can do that," Erik said, burying his nose in Charles' luscious hair.

Before either of them could say anything more, the door cracked slightly and Mystique's voice drifted into the room.

"Charles? Everything all right?"

"It's all right," Erik called to her. "I've got it."

I've got you, he soothed the telepath as the shape shifter quickly bowed out.

"Thank you," Charles murmured against his chest.

XxX

It was about a week later that Erik and Charles had their first session with Pele. The three of them gathered in the library, all on one couch with Pele sitting between the two men.

"So how's this going to work?" she asked Charles impatiently.

"We're going to go through your memories of your time with Shaw…perhaps even back further than that, if you think you can handle it."

"Handle it?" she scoffed. "What do you think you can show me, Professor? After Sebastian, I do not fear pain."

"What do you fear, then?" Charles asked quietly, taking one of her small hands in his.

For a moment, Pele looked indignant, as if she were offended by the very idea. So she looked Charles square in the eye and said, "Nothing. I don't fear anything."

Charles sighed. "If you insist. I suppose you're very close to being truly fearless. We'll see. I promise you I won't look at anything you don't want me to."

Pele shrugged. "Look at whatever you want. I don't care."

Nodding, Charles placed several fingers against the girl's left temple. Making certain Erik was with him, he connected them both to Pele's mind.

The outermost layer was made of fire and rage…the hate and the pain that fueled her power…that made her Pele. It was very much like the border that surrounded Erik's mind.

Briefly, Charles felt her struggle when he attempted to go deeper, but he was patient…waited for her to let him in.

Pele was practically immune to pain. She hadn't felt it for a long while…neither was this because she'd created a psychic block from her body's pain receptors, as he himself had done. She liked to let herself feel it, knowing she could bear it. He had to dig through several memories of brutal physical conditioning and violent psychic sessions with Emma in order to find her last memory of true pain…but when he did, he almost wished he hadn't.

He saw flashes of Pele in a cell very much like his had been. The memory itself was incomplete because Pele had blacked out fairly often during the experience, but had been forced back to consciousness by Emma. Charles had seen this moment before…but now he could feel what Pele had felt.

Sebastian…had told her…what this was meant to be like…but her body just wasn't mature enough to withstand it yet. Her whole world was pain. It began between her legs and spread outward in undulating rings…and no matter how much she screamed or cried, it wouldn't stop…not until he'd finished.

Pele had forgotten pain that night. Pain and tears had brought her nothing and they certainly wouldn't save her…therefore, she had to carve them out of herself. It had been the only way to survive.

No, her voice suddenly sounded in his head. No more.

Charles withdrew from her mind immediately. When normal sight returned to him, he saw Pele sitting beside him, still as a statue, with tears spilling silently down her face.

"I'd forgotten…" she whispered, her voice containing no trace of the tears on her face. "I'd forgotten…how it felt. Why did…you make me remember?"

"Because you must," Charles said gently as he took the little girl in his arms. "In order to know…why you don't allow yourself to feel…we have to go back to the reason you stopped."

"Why should I…feel?" she snarled, though tears continued to pour down her face. She remained stiff in Charles' embrace, but she didn't fight it. "It's…pathetic!"

"No," Erik's voice interrupted. "There's nothing less pathetic."

Then Erik wrapped his arms around Charles' shoulders, being careful of Pele, and the two of them held her, while simultaneously holding each other. All three of them cried…though not necessarily outwardly.

It was late in the day when Pele had finally cried all her tears, and Charles used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe her face dry.

"Don't worry. We don't have to do this again until you feel ready."

"What about the two of you?" she asked, managing to summon up a tiny portion of her earlier indignation. "I thought I'd be seeing some of your memories."

Before Charles could answer, his attention was drawn by some new and very different types of minds entering the grounds of the mansion.

"It will have to keep until later. Right now, I believe we have some company."

XxX

Hearing the motorcycles, the others followed Charles, Erik, and Pele out into the main courtyard as they drove up. Charles was getting profuse thoughts from Banshee and Havok about how cool they were.

Charles and Erik both recognized the two men immediately…difficult to forget encounters like that. The girl was new, though…and her thought patterns were by far the strangest Charles had ever encountered. He had attempted to read animal minds before, and her mind was something like that…her thoughts molded around survival with little that was more complex. There was something more concealed beneath this animal mind, something human, but it was buried deeper than he cared to venture without her permission.

"Change your minds?" he asked with a friendly smile.

"You can go right back to fuckin' yourself, Xavier. We didn't come here for you," James said as he dismounted. The girl scurried off right after him.

"How did you find us here?" Erik asked, suspicious, even though they were fellow mutants.

"Wasn't easy," Victor growled, remaining defiantly on his own bike, signifying he did not intend to hang around.

"Had to track down MacTaggert after we found out your division was defunct. Really wasn't easy."

"How?" Erik repeated dangerously, matching James' gruff tone. "No one should be able to find us."

"You're kinda hard to miss, bub," James fired back. "Big place like this."

"If you-"

"Erik," Charles interrupted calmly. "Let it be. They won't turn us in…and frankly, heaven help the poor soul that tries to make them."

Erik threw Charles an incredulous look, but once he'd seen the certainty in his lover's eyes, he was finally able to rein himself in.

"Don't go worryin' your pretty heads over it. No one's gonna follow us here," Victor grumbled.

"Thing is…we just came to bring her to you guys," James explained, leading the girl toward them. She was reluctant at first, standing slightly in the man's shadow, but Charles met them halfway. She wasn't that much shorter than him, but he still bent down to her height so he could look her in the eyes.

Artemis…he began slowly. The teen's head darted wildly about when his voice sounded in her head, but he waited patiently for her to calm down, his thoughts gently directing her attention back to him.

It's all right. You'll be safe here. You don't have to hide any longer.

Artemis shook her head as she stepped out from behind James.

"Nnnnnno…I…me…dan-ger…"

As Artemis struggled to speak, Charles received one very distinctly human thought from her head.

I'm the one who's bad!

Artemis, he continued, still moving slowly. The girl was delicate right now and any wrong moves could send her bolting for the trees. You're most certainly not a bad girl at all. A bad person isn't capable of thinking of himself as bad. If you want, I can help you understand yourself a little better. We're like you, Artemis. We're mutants.

An odd expression twisted Artemis' face at this…as if she weren't used to making facial expressions. It was twined somewhere between hope, fear, and sadness. For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but instead, a quiet howling noise began in her throat, sounding something like a whining dog. When Charles offered her his hand, she continued her soft, mournful howling, but she took it.

"Well…looks like you're gonna be all right here. See you around, kid," James said before turning back to his bike.

"Why did you bring her here?" Erik asked him before he could hop back on the motorcycle.

James hesitated a long while before answering, and when he finally did, he didn't turn to face them.

"She's a kid. She shouldn't have to be on her own."

Then the two brothers got onto their bikes and motored off down the road. Artemis was saddened by the departure, but she understood. She had known this was coming.

"So what is she?" Pele asked bluntly as Charles led Artemis to them.

"A tele-kine," Charles explained. "The movement of physical matter through mental power. A strong one, too, unless I miss my best guess."

"Which is pretty much impossible," Mystique said with a smirk.

Artemis quirked her head to the side when she saw Pele…a slightly confused looked on her face. As she watched the way the little girl shifted, and the air of impatience that seemed to follow her everywhere, Charles received the very distinct picture of a wolf pup in his mind and couldn't help chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Pele demanded petulantly.

"You remind her of a wolf pup," Charles answered, still grinning. "A wolf pup who hasn't had its first hunt yet."

None of them could help chuckling at this, except Erik and Pele herself, whose face actually turned slightly red. Embarrassed, the seven-year-old marched up to the teen and jabbed her in the stomach with her pointer finger.

"Listen, wolf brat! I've hunted more than you might think, so I won't have that sort of patronizing tone from you."

Artemis wasn't at all offended by the jab or the shouting. She just continued to stare in confusion and vague fondness.

"I don't know that Artemis is capable of patronizing anyone, Pele. She doesn't think like that. She just sees you as inexperienced…but she knows this will change," Charles explained, looking to Artemis herself for confirmation he'd gotten it right. She nodded. She couldn't express herself very well verbally, but she seemed to understand them.

"Inexperienced, my arse!" Pele snipped before stomping back inside. Artemis followed her progress with the same look of fond confusion on her face.

"All right, everyone, back inside," Charles said, following Pele's lead. "We ought to be eating soon. I think the first thing we need to do, though, is see about getting Artemis some proper clothing. I don't see how you haven't frozen to death before now, my dear."

Artemis followed the small family without question. While she was still afraid for some unknown, intangible reason, she was also a creature of instinct…and her instincts told her this was a safe place.

XxX

(A/N) So how's this new one working for you? Still riding on the excitement of the last one? Eheh. A few notes to leave you with before I depart for the next chapter:

James and Victor: Yay, cameos! It occurred to me that the time Charles and Erik came across Wolverine should have been around the time he was still with Victor, going by that continuity (and I want to, because despite what people say, I actually enjoyed that movie. Please don't let that affect your reading of my work. (sweatdrop) To each, their own, as they say.). So I figured I'd explore that some.

Artemis: Don't worry. This won't be an OC infested story. Artemis will be the last one for a while. I thought about introducing her in the last story, but it didn't seem to fit quite right. She and Pele were conceived together as characters and they have a great deal to do with each other, so we'll just see how it all works out.

Hope you're all still enjoying and I certainly hope to hear from you. Now to work on chapter 2.